


dancing juice (choir bell sing)

by amusewithaview



Series: fanfiction is a valid love language [5]
Category: Fantastic Four (Movies 2005-2007), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Johnny Storm, Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Beta Darcy Lewis, Bonding, Dubious Consent, F/M, Knotting, Love Potion/Spell, Mates, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 01:53:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12948756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview
Summary: “Amora!” Jane cried on seeing Darcy.  “Again!  She just won’t take a hint!”“Amora, huh?”“Yeah, this time she dumped her upgraded love juice on half of lower Manhattan.  Thor’s been out all night rounding up the impacted and schlepping them to Strange for the cure.  It’s almost funny, except-“ Jane stopped, eyes going wide.Darcy turned away to set her bag down on her desk.Jane circled around until she was in front of the other woman.  “You went out last night.”Darcy made a noncommittal noise.Sense memory of warm hands on her hips, pulling her into an even hotter body.  She knows his smell, warm-spice-coffee-lemons-apples.  She knows his touch, it's warm always warm, but never burning her.  She relaxes back into him because he’s safe and if he’s here then she knows thatshe’ssafe, even if the world’s going mad all around her.  That moment of relaxation, her trusting surety, is all the magic needs to leap from him to her and take hold.“I’m fine,” Darcy said.





	dancing juice (choir bell sing)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emma98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma98/gifts).



> See the end notes for a description of how the "love juice" works.

Darcy woke up to her alarm and stumbled from bed, shedding last night’s clothes willy-nilly across her floor. By the time she reached the bathroom she was naked and slightly more awake. She stretched her arms over her head, but her yawn was cut off by a squeak as she felt a painful pull on the back of her neck. She scrambled for her pants where they lay in the doorway, digging in her pockets for her phone. Nothing. She backtracked to her bed, frantically flipping the covers until she found her heavily modified Stark phone.

With one hand she twisted her hair up and away, with the other she snapped a quick photo of the back of her neck. The photo showed pale skin, a few streaks of dried blood, and a bite mark placed haphazardly over the knobby bits at the top of her spine.

“Shit,” Darcy breathed, legs buckling and sending her tumbling back onto her bed. “Shit,” she said again, hand gingerly prodding at her sore flesh. “Okay,” she said to herself. “Not a dream, then.”

…

_He is pulling her after him, herding her off the street and away from the commotion. Darcy lets herself be led, stumbling in her eagerness to follow and get somewhere alone and quiet and just theirs. He is the soul of solicitousness, turning back every time her gait is thrown off and pulling her in to steady her. His blue eyes are wide and his nostrils flare as he studies their surroundings, seeming to have some internal debate with himself._

_After a moment he pulls her in a new direction, towards a closed and locked storefront. It is the work of a moment for him to melt through the door handle and let them both in. Darcy has a scant second to wonder if the security system will go off before a few well-placed fireballs melt the cameras and the wall mount she’d been able to discern._

_That taken care of, she watches him melt the door into its frame, making sure nobody else will be able to enter the way that they have. That fixed, he guides her towards the back of the store and away from the windows. Inside it’s dark, but the streetlights kept it from being pitch black. The place smells like melted plastic and scorched metal, but underneath the evidence of his hasty remodeling she can discern potpourri, dust and the distinct smell of age._

_“It’s not the Ritz, but in a pinch-“_

_“It’s fine, I don’t care, just **kiss me**.”_

…

The lab was loud when she got in, Jane crossly muttering to herself while she puttered around with a stack of files. The wall behind the scientist was full of news programs instead of equations. Jane’s ire seemed equally spread between the news anchors on the TV and the subject of their reporting.

“Amora!” Jane cried on seeing Darcy. “Again! She just won’t take a hint!”

“Amora, huh?”

“Yeah, this time she dumped her upgraded love juice on half of lower Manhattan. Thor’s been out all night rounding up the impacted and schlepping them to Strange for the cure. It’s almost funny, except-“ Jane stopped, eyes going wide.

Darcy turned away to set her bag down on her desk.

Jane circled around until she was in front of the other woman. “You went out last night.”

Darcy made a noncommittal noise.

“You _did_ , I remember you were talking about it the other day. Drinks with Morgan from Accounting?”

She hummed, sorting through the papers on her desk.

“You _went out_. Did you go to-“

Darcy looked up, scowling. “Yes, Jane.”

“So you got caught up in the-“

“ _Yes_ , Jane.”

“Thor said it only affected Alphas, and then their chosen partners,” Jane said slowly. “It was supposed to make them seek out the one they were suited for, or something. Were you ‘suited’ for Morgan?”

“No.”

Jane reached over and grabbed Darcy’s hand, making the other Beta make eye contact. “You are okay though, right? No other strange Alphas went and decided you two were meant to be?” she asked, mouth quirking up at the corners to invite Darcy to join in on the joke. Her eyes were serious though, genuine concern and affection obvious to her friend.

Darcy made a show of rolling her eyes. “No, Jane.”

_Sense memory of warm hands on her hips, pulling her into an even hotter body._

“No strange Alphas,” she affirmed.

_She knows his smell, warm-spice-coffee-lemons-apples. She knows his touch, it's warm always warm, but never burning her. She relaxes back into him because he’s safe and if he’s here then she knows that **she’s** safe, even if the world’s going mad all around her. That moment of relaxation, her trusting surety, is all the magic needs to leap from him to her and take hold._

“I’m fine,” Darcy said, and it was the first lie she’d told that morning.

…

_They’re in an antique store, she realizes, and she spares a scant moment to wonder if they’re not the first to make out on the couch they’ve found towards the back. He pulls her down with him as soon as he sees it. He relaxes almost as soon as he realizes that their seat is completely out of sight of the windows and anyone outside. She is waiting for him to realize that they’re safe, happy to wait for his Alpha protectiveness to be satisfied. When he finally looks back at her she has one eyebrow cocked and she’s grinning at him._

_“So?”_

_He grins back, “About that kiss-“_

_She is climbing into his lap before he can finish the question, the beat and pulse of her blood pushing her on and closer – she needs to be so much closer to him, his smile, and the warmth he radiates that is so much more than merely physical._

_“Hi,” she says from her new perch on his lap. From here, his height advantage is almost entirely negated, putting his lips in perfect reach. Her gaze slips from his eyes down to his lips, slightly parted and pink, then back again._

_“Hi back,” he says, fingers flexing at her waist._

_His thumbs slip beneath her t-shirt and she shivers. He pulls her closer at that, eyebrows furrowing in misplaced concern. Darcy takes advantage of his distraction and fits her mouth against his in a gentle press, waiting for him to get with the program. His lips are as warm as the rest of him and she can’t wait to find out if they’re as talented as all his smug smiles and unending swagger proclaim. She feels him smiling against her lips and then he nips at her, a faint suggestion in his introduction of teeth to the mix._

_“It’s like that, huh?” she asks, leaning back a little and rolling her hips down just to hear his breath stutter. She’s warm and happy and exactly where she wants to be._

_“Yeah,” he says, breathless and almost laughing it, still beaming at her like a kid getting everything on his Christmas list. “It’s like that,” he confirms, and he dives back in for another kiss._

…

 She checked the bite every morning, hoping to see it heal over and disappear. Every day it healed, but instead of going away it was getting darker and _spreading_. There was a bluish tinge to the mark now, and she wasn’t sure what the image would be once it finished healing but it was clear that the claim had settled – cast and caught, placed and accepted.

Darcy hadn’t decided how she felt about that. She spent a lot of time examining her feelings, trying to keep quiet and out of the way of the others in the Tower while they dealt with the aftermath of Amora’s attack. Thor had barely been back even to sleep, still helping the other Avengers track down everyone impacted and doing damage control on Asgard’s image in the eyes of the Earthlings.

There had been, according to the currently reported figures, a little under three hundred Alphas affected by Amora’s love juice before she could be stopped. Of those three hundred, a little less than a third already had bonded partners. The lucky ones headed home with single-minded determination and, according to said partners, were ‘unusually affectionate and cuddly’ until the stuff wore off. It was the unbonded that had caused the most problems.

Those that had steady or serious partners almost all ended up seeking them out. Apparently a lot of bonds that had been planned out carefully had instead taken root precipitously. The real issue came from those completely unattached, and even a few attached but apparently not with the ones they really wanted. Most of those had gone hunting after the ones in their hearts, and half the Avengers and a good amount of the support crew were still dealing with the fallout from that.

“Fifteen bonds between Alphas and completely unsuspecting objects-of-affection,” Tony said, shaking his head. “A lot of repressed feelings exploding all over the place with a little magical hoopla and a whole lot of noise. Sorry bastards.”

“What will they do?” Jane asked.

Natasha was the one who answered, “Eight of the pairs are looking on it with relief, apparently the feelings were repressed on both sides. Three are taking this as an opportunity to start dating. The remaining four are…not taking things as well.”

“Yeah,” Tony said darkly. “Would you?”

Natasha remained blank faced at his question, but her hands curled a little more tightly around her Starkpad, which was answer enough. “SWORD has offered counseling and assistance with bond reconciliation for all of those impacted.”

“But the bonds _took_?” Darcy asked, trying not to shrink in her seat when everyone at the table focused on her. “All of the Alphas that tried to bond, it worked? I mean, it can’t have – statistically – unless there was something else going on?”

“In every case where a bonding took place, both partners were equally affected by Amora’s spell,” Stephen answered, watching her with sharp, too-discerning eyes. “It was, by all accounts, very disorienting. For many, a certain amount of memory loss remains an issue.”

Darcy was very careful not to flinch.

“In any case, Amora’s magic was very specific: her spell could not latch onto a new host unless there was already a bond of some sort between that host and the new victim. All of the Alphas who bonded were already in some sort of reciprocal relationship with their partners.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “That one radio host and her best friend-“

“Friendship is still a relationship,” Natasha pointed out. “Though, they’re one of those eight pairs who aren’t contesting the new arrangement, so it seems that there might have been some hidden feelings on both sides.”

“A lot of Alphas didn’t bond, though. Sometimes the relationship really was completely one-sided. Those ones were the most destructive,” Stephen said, face grave. There had been casualties that night, at least six dead and several more wounded and still in the hospital – all Alphas who turned self-destructive when they were rejected by the focus of their bonding drive.

All told, the Alphas who were unable to find their chosen partners before being cured by Stephen were probably the luckiest. The ones unwillingly outed as asexual or aromantic had a more mixed bag of reactions: the magic didn’t latch onto them as intended and so they were all able to act as crowd control and assist the Avengers when their fellow Alphas went wild. Several were being hailed as heroes, but a few were now forced to have uncomfortable discussions with friends or family.

“Have you found everyone who got the juice?” Darcy asked, trying to sound her normal irreverent self.

“No,” Stephen said. “Not everyone has come forward and some parties remain missing.”

Tony snorted. “Storm still kicking up a fuss?”

“Storm?” Jane asked. “Is Sue all right?”

“Sue was fine once we got her untangled from Reed,” Tony said dismissively. “And if I never see a cuddly plastic man again it will be _too soon_. No, the issue is her brother. He got himself juiced and he _claims_ he bonded, but-“ he made a broad gesture. “No bondee has appeared. They’ve all locked themselves up in the Baxter and I think they must be sitting on him to keep him shut up there with him and not out on the streets looking for whoever it is.”

It was probably all in her head, but Darcy felt like the bite on her neck was throbbing in tempo with her pulse. “Oh,” she said. “Well, if they wait long enough the bond will dissolve, right? No contact will do that eventually, right?”

Tony pulled a face and shoved away from the table.

“Darcy,” Jane said reproachfully, once he was good and gone.

“What? What did I say?”

“Neglect is no way to sever a bond,” Stephen said. “It hurts both parties.”

“It’s a matter of public record,” Natasha explained. “When Tony was taken by the Ten Rings, he was held for several months without contact with his bonded or any of the normal aids. That kind of strain is not pleasant.”

“Right. I knew that. So the Fantastic Four are just waiting for whoever it is to show up when the pain gets to be too bad?”

“No, Ms. Lewis, I believe that they are waiting for the bond to settle so Storm can track whoever it is. Apparently location-sensing is a very common bond gain in their family. It’s only a matter of time, it’s been almost seven days.”

Darcy nodded and poked at her oatmeal. Nobody was surprised when she pushed herself away from the table minutes later and three sets of eyes tracked her exit from the room.

“We should-“

“Let them sort it out themselves.”

“If this blows up in her face, I’m siccing Thor on you.”

…

_Darcy’s staring at the ceiling and panting, mind reeling and body trembling as her cunt clenches around nothing._

_Again._

_He’s got her pressed up against the back of the couch, one arm braced across her hips and his other hand pressed against her shoulder. He has to use both to hold her down because without them she’d have thrashed her way onto the floor by now. Her eyes are dazed, vision blurred even though she’s still managed to keep her glasses on. When she manages to look down he’s still using his shoulders to lever her thighs apart so he can bring that stupidly talented tongue and those somehow still-smiling lips to bear on her cunt and clit. He’s paused for the moment, looking up at her from under his lashes and licking his lips._

_She knows what **that** means and in an instant she’s got both hands wrapped around his forearm trying to pry his hand off of her shoulder. “I can’t,” she whimpers. She can’t move, she can’t think, she can’t handle any more of his attention on her body. “Please,” she begs, and the fact that he’s reduced her to begging in less than twenty minutes is impressive and also a little daunting._

_If that’s what lips, teeth and tongue can do, then what will his-_

_“You **can** ,” he says, warm and confident. “Just a couple more,” he promises, bussing a quick kiss over the silky skin of her inner thigh. “I don’t want to hurt you, so I have to get you ready before you can take it, Sugar Pie.”_

_“Can’t be **that** big,” she bites out acerbically._

_He’s not even insulted, just amused. “Big enough,” he assures her. “Now, lie back and take your orgasms like a good girl.”_

_“I’ll think of England,” she mutters in the same tone one would say ‘Fuck you.’_

_“No,” he says, all his easy smiles evaporated into Alpha heat in an instant. “You’ll think of **me**.”_

…

 Darcy had about a day to prepare after the kitchen conversation before the bond solidified. She spent it aggressively not thinking about the bite on her neck, the growing feeling of hollowness inside her, or the rapidly developing sense she had that there was something – some _one_ – she _needed_ north and west of her location. It seemed that location-sensing was a two-way street. She wondered idly if the Storm predilection for location-sensing would entirely overwhelm the Lewis inclination towards empathic resonance, but she shelved that thought in favor of more not-thinking.

On the seventh day since the incident, she woke up feeling warm and peaceful and as if everything she needed was right there at her fingertips. Then she shifted, starting to stretch, and froze when she realized that there was someone in the bed beside her.

She rolled over to find bright blue eyes burning into her own from the other pillow: Johnny Storm was lying on his side on top of the covers and staring at her. As soon as he saw that she was awake he was moving, crowding over closer to her, one arm curling around her waist and yanking her up against him so he could wrap both his arms about her.

“What the fuck-“

Johnny rolled them over until he was on top of her and pinned the blankets at her shoulders to immobilize her.

Trapped under the blanket, still bleary with sleep, Darcy glared up at him.

“Morning, Sugar Pie,” he said with false brightness. “You weren’t about to try and run away again, were you?”

“I don’t know what you’re-“

He shifted and, before she could even think to take advantage of his loosened grip, shoved one hand under her hair so his palm was pressed up against the back of her neck and cupping the now-healed mark. She gasped in reaction, arching up against him as a pulse of electricity zipped through her body, leaving pure heat in its wake. Judging by the way his pupils had expanded, leaving nothing but a thin ring of blue to encircle the yawning black, Johnny was similarly affected.

“Wanna run that one by me again?” he asked.

She glared up at him, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way she had her head tilted back at an almost unnatural angle in order to keep his hand pressed to her spine. _Denial, thy name is Darcy._ They kept up the staring contest for another moment or two. Finally, Johnny rolled his eyes and, just when she was about to say something, he went boneless and dropped his full weight on her.

Darcy squawked and tried to squirm, but he was heavy and still mostly wrapped around her and she was trapped by his weight over her blankets. She could feel him smiling, no, _smirking_ enough to make his stubble scrape against the skin over her collarbone where his face now rested. She thrashed a bit more, but all she managed to do was get him even more solidly settled between her legs. She stopped moving and the only sound was her breath and his, the former coming a bit faster and heavier than the latter.

“You ‘bout done?”

“No,” she said mulishly, but didn’t move.

“Good,” he lifted his head enough to show her the uncharacteristically serious look on his face. “Now, we’re going to take a nap, because I’m goddamn exhausted after the week I’ve had, and when we wake up we’re going to talk this over like,” he grimaced, but forced the words out after a heavy swallow: “ _Adults_.”

Darcy took in the bruise-purple circles below his eyes and his scruffy jawline with new eyes. It occurred to her abruptly that Johnny must have been one of the ones who had memory loss after the affects of Amora’s love juice wore off. Johnny might have spent the last week wanting to search her out but not entirely sure who she was. Her conscience pricked at her, just enough that she finally nodded.

“ _Fantastic_ ,” he sighed, and then he was rearranging her and the blankets. When Johnny was done, he was under the sheet but most of the blankets were still over her. Both of his arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her back to his front. He shoved her hair up over the top of the pillow towards the headboard and she shivered as he breathed across the mark on her neck.

“What’s it look like?” Darcy asked. She hadn’t seen it since that first picture.

“Perfect,” he muttered after a few seconds. “Now go to _sleep_.”

…

_She’s kneeling on the couch, arms braced against the back and hands clenching on the intricate woodcarving that decorates the top. She can feel him up against her and he's warm all over except for the places where he’s scorchingly hot. His hands are at her hips, his thighs pressed to the backs of hers, the head of his cock is sliding against her but it’s still not **in** her._

_The whining sound she makes starts out high in the back of her throat, but it ends on a grumble that’s almost a snarl. “Johnny,” she says, and her voice is hoarse from all the screaming she’s been doing but the warning tone is still unmistakable. “Johnny, come on, just fuck me already.”_

_He slides one hand from her hip down to play in the slick that’s coating the inside of her thighs. From there, he slips his fingers up and into her, twisting and stretching, measuring the give and making her writhe and grind down onto the pressure that teases but never satisfies._

_“Goddamnit, Johnny!” she cries, and she’ll never tell him how close she is to **actual tears** with how bad she wants it._

_“Darcy, god, you’re so gorgeous like this, all flushed and warm and-“_

_She cranes her head around and bares her teeth at him. “If you don’t shut the fuck up and fuck me already I am going to **bite** you and I’m going to make it **hurt** ,” she promises. “Time to put your cock where your mouth’s been, Johnny.”_

_“God, you’re perfect,” he says adoringly, and she’s about to follow word with deed but he finally pushes forward just enough to sink the head of his cock into her._

_Darcy drops her forehead down to press against her clenched hands, breathing hard as he works himself in deeper in what feels like infinitesimal increments. He’s long and thick, typical Alpha male, but the way he’s lighting her up from the inside out is anything but typical. Darcy’s fucked her way across the designation spectrum, she’s had sex with friends and lovers and even a few strangers, but nothing has ever felt like this._

_Her breath is hitching in high little pants by the time he’s bottomed out, groin flush against her ass. He’s curled over her, skin to skin from knees up to the back of her neck where he’s pressing his face, breathing hot and damp. He doesn’t move a muscle and the lack of additional stimulation means all she can focus on is his cock throbbing inside of her. She can feel the slight swell just before the base, where his knot will form, and the shiver that ripples through her is as much fearful anticipation as it is desire. This close to finally getting what she’s been craving, she can admit that she appreciates that care and time he took to make sure her Beta body can handle his knot._

_He breathes out long and slow and deliberate over her neck, then playfully scrapes his teeth over the ridge of her spine. “You ready?” he asks._

_Darcy clenches around him in response, drawing a punched-out ‘oof’ sound from him and an involuntary thrust that has her smiling in triumph even as she moans. “I can take anything you can dish out, hothead,” she taunts._

_Johnny presses another smile against her skin and then it’s **on**._

_This is going to be fast, she knows. They’ve already been at it for what seems to her like hours, and probably feels even longer for Johnny. Darcy can tell he’s nearing the edge from the way his hands tremble a little on her skin, the way his mouth never quite leaves the back of her neck. He’s being careful and slow, setting a steady rhythm that has his knot just catching inside the mouth of her cunt._

_She twists her hips against him, wanting harder and faster and **more** –_

_“I’m driving,” Johnny says, pace unwavering._

_Darcy glowers down at her hands. Her knuckles are almost white from how hard she’s gripping the couch. She feels hot and wanting all over, skin prickling with goosebumps even in the heat Johnny generates, and there’s a yawning emptiness inside her that his cock doesn’t quite reach and she needs – she **needs**._

_“I need you deeper,” she tells him. Then, because honesty is the best policy and also she has enough presence of mind to notice the way his fingers press into her skin at the sound of her voice, she decides to continue. “Don’t you wanna be deeper?” she croons. “Don’t you wanna knot me? Fill me up like nobody has before? I’ve never taken a knot, Johnny, yours is gonna be my first. Gonna be so full of you that I don’t know where you end and I begin. Feel you inside me for –“_

_“Cheating,” he grits out against the top of her spine._

_“All’s fair in love and – **ahn**!”_

_He’s picking up speed a little, holding her hips tight so he can go deep. His knot is growing and the way it rubs up on her as he thrusts is – is –_

_She braces her forehead on her hands, biting her lip to stifle a whine._

_Johnny chuckles, nosing aside some of her hair so he can murmur in her ear: “You wanted me deeper. You feel that?” He rolls his hips and his knot presses against something that makes her shiver all over, mouth dropping open so she can pant. “It’s only gonna get bigger, Darcy. This is nothing, pretty soon you won’t even be able to **breathe** without feeling me,” he growls._

_“Big talk,” Darcy gasps. “Can you –“_

_Johnny angles her hips with his hands and drives into her with a snarl. He circles his hips, rocking his knot around inside her so it feels like there’s no part of her that hasn’t felt his touch. His knot keeps growing and she’s trembling, shaking, can’t move because he’s holding her still but can’t **stop** moving because her whole body is being lit up from the inside out, jolts and flickers of electric pleasure and heat firing through her body, building and building until he sets his teeth to either side of her spine and **bites**._

_Sensation zings from her neck to her cunt and radiates out, waves of pleasure with no end. Dimly, she’s aware of Johnny’s hands shifting, one releasing her hip to curve up across her torso. He guides her down, moves them as best he can till they’re lying on the couch and not haphazardly draped over it. His hands, once free, set to work to ensure that she never comes down from the high she’s flying. His knot in her cunt, teeth in her neck, one hand curving over a breast and the other dancing over her clit, she’s lost and she’s found, unable to do anything but lie there and shake to pieces around him over and over again.  
_

…

 She woke up feeling warm and peaceful and completely surrounded by Johnny Storm. He had one arm curled tightly around her waist, the other serving as her pillow, his legs were tangled in hers and he was pressed up against the length of her body. When she tilted her head to look up she saw that his was tilted down: his face had been buried in her hair.

The dark circles were noticeably less prominent now. His face was peaceful in his sleep and she had the thought that this was probably the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. It was certainly the least animated. He smelled tired, even to her comparatively weak Beta nose (not that it mattered in such close proximity), and with undercurrents of aggression and other things she couldn’t quite define. That was the worst part about being a Beta: not that she couldn’t smell, but that she couldn’t _tell_. Her brain just wasn’t wired to pick up as much detailed information as an Omega or Alpha’s. There was training to compensate, but she’d never bothered.

Darcy had always assumed she’d end up with a nice Beta boy or girl. It wasn’t that she was against dating outside her own designation; it was more that she’d always thought it a little too messy to bother with. Until recently, she’d never met someone she liked well enough to even consider changing her mind on that front.

Johnny… Johnny seemed like he’d been designed to be the exception to all her rules.

“You’re thinking too hard,” the man in question muttered.

Darcy startled, looking up to see that his eyes were still shut. There was a faint pucker between his eyebrows and the relaxed peace of before was gone. She could feel a subtle tension in his frame. “I’ve got a lot to think about,” was all she said.

“You’ve had a _week_ ,” he reminded her.

“…I don’t know if I want to have this conversation lying down like this.”

Johnny scowled and his arm tightened around her as if he thought she’d go rolling for the edge of the bed. She felt the low rumble of a growl resonating in his throat though the sound was more resigned than anything else, and then he abruptly loosened his hold. He rolled over onto his back, scowling at the ceiling.

Darcy watched the muscles in his jaw work for a moment or two, then-

“I don’t want you to run again,” he said flatly. “I can’t – just,” he sighed. “Just _don’t_.”

“It’s not like it’s a _habit_ ,” she said defensively.

“I woke up _alone_ on that couch.”

“I…” It was her turn to sigh. Darcy sat up, nudging his arm over till he moved it, linking both his hands over his stomach. She scooted up the bed until she could sit upright, leaning against the headboard. This was easier if she didn’t look directly at him. She plucked at the hem of the sheet, fiddling with a loose thread. “I’m sorry I left you alone like that, it was just. It was a lot, okay? I didn’t exactly go out that night expecting…”

“You think I _did_?” he asked, twisting his head to fix her with a raised eyebrow.

“Point. This was kind of _beyond_ unexpected, though. I mean, I never expected to bond at _all_.”

“You never even thought about it?” he asked.

“Not _seriously_. I’ve never dated an Alpha.”

“So it wasn’t just a brush-off.”

She frowned at that, then remembered an exchange a few months prior: he had flirted and she deflected. It had become a pattern by that point. ‘I don’t date Alphas,’ she’d told him with a half-smile. She shrugged in the here-and-now: “Never met one I thought might be worth the hassle.”

“So, if I was a Beta…?”

Darcy unraveled another inch of hemming. “I might have said ‘yes,’” she admitted.

Another low rumble echoed through the room, and this one was clearly frustrated. “You know that’s bullshit, right?” he said tightly. “You – ”

“I was _thinking_ about saying ‘yes’ anyways,” she said, still studying the hem. “I figured if you weren’t really serious, if this was a catch-and-release thing, then we could have fun and be done and I’d… I’d be better off doing it now, before,” she cleared her throat. “ _Anyways_ , um, if you were actually serious, if you meant it, I thought…”

There was a rustle in the sheets as he rolled over onto his stomach and moved up the bed towards her. She felt a wash of heat along her thigh, he wasn’t touching her, it was just his proximity, and froze as her wrist was caught in a gentle hold.

“You thought…?” Johnny prodded.

“Why not see where this goes? Only, _stupid_ Amora and her _stupid_ obsession with Thor – “

“So you were gonna say ‘yes.’”

“To a _date_ ,” Darcy clarified. “I was going to say ‘yes’ to a _date_. And now we’re bonded!”

He shrugged, “So we’ll date.”

“…what?”

Johnny smiled. “Darcy, will you go out on a date with me tonight?”

“Yes,” her mouth said before her brain could fully process. “Wait, are you –“

“No take-backs,” he said cheerfully.

“Johnny –“

He tugged her down until she was flat on her back on the bed, staring up at him. “No talking your way out of this one.” He leaned in till they were eye-to-eye: “I am going to date the shit out of you, I am going to pitch the perfect game of woo, by the time I’m done with you, well, actually – lets be honest, Darcy, I’m _never_ gonna be done with you.”

She swallowed hard, staring into eyes that were very bright and blue. “Was that a threat or a promise?”

Johnny slid a hand under her neck, pressing his fingertips to her bond mark. “You could call it a vow,” he told her with a shrug.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The "love juice" requires three components in order to work on an Alpha: sexual attraction, romantic feelings, and a target for both. If one of those two ingredients happened to not be present, or if there wasn't a clear single focus for BOTH the sexual and romantic drives, the magic wouldn't work.
> 
> In order to jump to a Beta, Omega, or another Alpha, the romantic AND sexual attraction must be reciprocated AND there has to be a bond of trust between the original Alpha and the target of their affections.
> 
> So, yes, the consent is EXTREMELY DUBIOUS but there are no manufactured feelings or attractions. The magic could only work with what was already there and the magic would only work IF those things were already present. Amora was (and is, in this 'verse) constantly running on the assumption that DEEP DOWN, Thor really is super into her and she just needs to break past whatever weird THING is keeping him from admitting his feelings.


End file.
